| My karate master, Master Fred Scott, once told me a tale of a skilled student who approached a wise teacher to seek advanced training and enlightenment. The teacher was pouring tea in silence as the young man introduced himself and began boasting about his extraordinary skills and achievements, obviously trying to impress.
The teacher continued to pour the tea.
As the student bragged on about his awards, he watched as the tea spilled over the sides of the teacup and flowed off the tabletop and onto the floor. “Excuse me,” the student said, alarmed. “Can’t you see that the teacup is filled and you are spilling it all over the floor?”
The wise old teacher smiled and replied, “See, you cannot fill a cup that is already full.”
The student learned a vital lesson in that brief encounter: if he were to draw from the teacher’s font of wisdom, he would have to empty his own cup first. Not long ago, I was guilty of such an offense – defying a wiser person's knowledge in favor of my own stubborn opinion – and I paid for it.
In the summer of 1999, I suffered a terrible motorcycle accident that nearly cost me my left leg. After the initial trauma was treated, I was fortunate enough to have some of the best surgeons in the world prescribe a complete recuperation program. But I decided that the best was not good enough for me, and I upped the ante on the recovery schedule.
I was so convinced that my aggressive approach to rehabilitation was the best way, that I – the fitness guru – neglected my doctor’s simple advice to “Take it easy.” Instead, I went at it like a maniac. Sweating and straining and striving to will myself back to optimum health. But I was performing exercises and using fitness equipment that were not conducive to a patient with drainage tubes still running out of his rib cage and bandages running the length of his shattered leg.
Luckily my leg has healed, and once again I walk with pep in my step and pride in my stride. However my excessive workouts, combined with prolonged use of crutches, had led to a secondary problem – debilitating tendonitis in my right elbow.
In order to fix my leg, the doctors had to transplant some muscle from my left shoulder into it. So while I was working to save my leg, I decided to also whip my shoulder back into shape. Again, my doctor said to take it easy. But after two years of hardcore physical therapy, acupuncture, massage, medication, various wrist/forearm splints, and several cortisone injections, I realized that I should have heeded my doctor’s simple advice. As it turns out, my overzealous exercise routine – which necessitated overcompensation for my bad left side – had resulted in a severe case of tendonitis in my good right elbow.
"Why," I asked myself every time I have to regretfully decline someone's handshake, "did I not listen to my karate master?" Who would have known?
My doctor, pouring himself a cup of tea, that’s who. -- PC
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